The Memphis appeal. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1886-1890, 1887-09-18
THE DEACON'S RANCH.

What old resident Of Oakland
is there who doesn't know Jeremiah
P. Hammersmith? Parson Jerry
he used to be called, for in his
younger days he was local preacher
Of the Methodist church. But in
oreasipg years aud the RESPONSE
bilities Of large family cured him
Of that, aud, though retaining his
piety, he long ago descended ecclesi-
astically TO the modest station Of a
deacon. The old gentleman's farm
borders the county road midway be-
tween Oakland and San Leandro,
and there is not in all the State
better cultivated or prettier little
ranch. His thirty acres, set out in
fruit and vegetables, have,
with the help Of the cows
and chickens, not only given the
deacon living for the past quarter
oil century, but made him fairly
prosperous man. He has-or rather
had until recently comfortable
thousand or two laid away in the
bank. Few better dressed worship
ers entered the church on Sunday
morning than his wife and three
daughters, and he pair Of horses
which brought them in the nicely
vanished spring wagon had blood
in their veins. The deacon passed
the plate, and was respected by his
neighbors. In the conduct Of the
farm his eldest son and the four
younger boys relieved the old gentle
man OF any more laborious toll than
an agreeable exercise ofsuperintend-
ing authority. A healthy, cheerful,
'placid, slow-thinking man, without
regrets aud with a mind easy as TO
the future-who would not envy
Jeremiah p. Hammersmith?
"What'd take Tor my place2" he
said TO an inquirer six months back.
"Well, mister, it amt for sale. I've
rared my children here aud its home,
dye understand, TO me and my wife
and the young folks. Nothin' d
tempt me TO sell. What did the land
cost me2 Oh, next TO nothin'i but
that don't count. Why, sir, you
might offer me $3.50, or as high as
800 an acre-I've been offered 500
and I'd say no. There's some
things, sir, chat money wont buy in
this world, and my ranch is one Of
'em, praise God"
maggie" cried Deacon Hammer
smith, three weeks ago last Wednes-
dan afternoon, descending from his
wagon seat and stumping up the
steps to his vine shaded yerandah,
what dye think2 In Oakland 10.
day real estate Teller offered
me"
II declare to goodness, Jeremiah,
exclaimed Mrs. Hammersmith,
starting back from the customary
home coming kiss, iii you hain'i
been drinking
"Well, fact is, Maggie, il was SC
excitin that did suspend the rules
with that real estate Teller once OF
twice. You've no idea the excite
ment there is in Oakland. The durI
place is Wild"
"Duru, Jeremiah2"
"As was sayin', Maggie" per
sisted the deacon, not replying u
the rebuke, but raising his voice Il
an irritated pitch, that real estate
feller-you know him, it's Joe Wat.
kinss boy, Billy-hc offered me
That Billy wilkins was Away
wild aud dissipated, Jeremiah, and
I've ever said he'd come TO no good
You surprise me, you do, 'sociatipI
with them goddess, and drinkin' will
them, too, Of all things, Where
your exampleW
"Durn my example," ejaculateC
the Deacon, angrily.
"Durn, Jel eniah2"
"Yes, durn, al it'll be worse aior
you know il, too, IL you keep toetor
ing at me, an me tryin' TO tell yol
something important aud amazin'
Will you hold your tongue2 What
started to say was, that Billy lWil
kins, who's got an Office as q rca
estate Teller and is doin' we'll, met m
on Broadway and asked me to take
drink, and"
"ohl Jeremiah, | never expcctc
-
Damn Now you've got il, Mag
gle Hammersmith. That's right
scream and make 4 fool OF yourself
ann don't on no account let me tel
you that Bill wilkins has offered m
300 an acre for the ranchl"
What
Aha | thought that'd cure 20
Of your preachin. Think oft Mas
gie-si0Ol That's $l2 900. lively
thousand Excuse me. but, hol
Moses Hullo, who's this com
in'Y
A district messenger boy tore u
the drive on ioamiog mustang an
pantinely extended letter.
"MaggieI" shouted the Deacon, lei
ting the paper drop from his hanC
its from Bill wilkins, lie say
he'll make IL 1850"
Three hours later, while Deaco
Hammersmith was officiating at IA
family altar, the rattle OF wheels wa
heard, aud the doorbell rang viz
lently.
who's thereI inquired the Def
con loudly, but not rising from hi
knees.
A voice answered that IL was MI
Lot Tosser, a gentleman from 0al
land.
"Well, you'll have TO wait. Wei
hayin prayers"
Mr.. loser proved to be q real Of
tate agent, willing TO give $500 q
acre for the farm.
Land sakesl' cried Mrs: Han
mersmith; and the three girls sal
Gracious"
"What'd you do with the ranch
you had it2" asked It's owner.
"Cut IL up into town lots sa
Mr.. Tosser.
But there amt no town here"
That don't matter. a. The. boom.
here"
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